


The Right Direction

by MechBull



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-07-02 16:03:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15799911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MechBull/pseuds/MechBull
Summary: Jemma is too practical to believe the whispered hopes of the True Believers, especially after Kasius selects her as one of his personal servitors. Imagine her surprise when people from the past really do show up, soon followed by an entirely too attractive Marauder.  A Cryo Fitz/Servitor Jemma AU.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Probably a high mature, low explicit, but just to be safe.

Jemma paused in her work, tilting her head back and exhaling slowly as she wiped off her forehead. She couldn’t rest long – Grill would see her and reprimand her – but Processing seemed warmer than usual. As she returned to her task of unloading one of the trawlers’ recent hauls, she mentally counted the number of hours left in her shift. The short duration of time to sleep never seemed that much of a reward or reprieve from the back-breaking shifts, but it was something at least. 

“Jemma,” a quiet voice hissed from the nearby doorway.

She turned, starting in surprise when she spotted Deke leaning halfway into the room. He beckoned at her to come closer, and he looked incredibly impatient. Jemma glanced around surreptitiously, slowly lowered her tools so they wouldn’t clank on the table, and made her way over to the door. 

“You better not let Grill find you skulking around here,” she warned. 

He waved away her advice, ignoring sense as always. She sometimes wondered how he survived all this time. 

“I need to get my hands on some Metrics.”

“What? Why?”

“I ran into some people who need them.”

“Are theirs broken? Empty? And what are you getting out of the deal?” 

Jemma had known him all her life. He wouldn’t help anyone – not even her – with something this big without getting something in return. 

“Virgil wanted me to.”

“Oh, really? Where is he then? Shouldn’t he – ”

“He’s dead.”

Jemma snapped her mouth shut. Her stomach pitched and she swayed dangerously for a moment. Her look of shocked confusion asked the question for her, however, and it also prompted Deke to be apologetic as he continued. He reached one hand out, briefly rubbing it down her arm. 

“A roach got him.” 

“Oh, God,” Jemma whispered. 

She had issues with Virgil, certainly, mostly because he insisted on still believing in children’s stories long after the rest of them grew up. That certainly didn’t mean she wanted him to be roach food. Jemma sighed. She supposed it was the least she could do, as a sort of memorial.

“How many Metrics?”

“I nabbed one off a body already, so just four.”

“Four!” Jemma caught herself just in time from shrieking out loud.

“Just try to get the devices from Grill’s stash. I should be able to cash in my debts and get enough tokens to transfer to them and get them started.”

Jemma sighed, shook her head, and walked away.

“Jemma?!” Deke whispered harshly after her. 

She waved one hand behind her. “I’ll do it. Meet me later in your room.” 

“Don’t take too long.”

She looked over her shoulder to glare at him – as if she wanted to engage in any of this for too long. It’d be hard enough to sneak _four_ Metrics from the work room without detection. She wondered who they were, how they lost their old ones, and what Kasius would do to them if they were caught.

There’d be another Renewal, at the very least.

**

Jemma felt anxious as she tapped on the door of the bunk Deke had claimed long ago as his own, after his mother had been killed and his father sent planet-side. She looked around nervously, waiting to be admitted. The Metrics she had nabbed weighed heavily in her pockets. But finally, the door opened just wide enough for her to sneak through the crack.

The people inside, besides Deke, were unfamiliar to her, and more than one looked like they’d recently been involved in physical fights. She glanced around at all of them in turn, and felt sick to her stomach when she noted smooth wrists on several of them. Only an older woman sitting on the corner of the mattress already had a Metric. She rubbed at her arm, however, as if the implant was fresh and bothersome. Jemma wondered who the fourth one was supposed to be for. 

Jemma forced her eyes to Deke’s, inquiring silently. 

“This is Phil Coulson,” he began, pointing out each person in turn. “Melinda May, Mack, Elena. They are…they’re from the past.”

Jemma was speechless for several seconds, then she began laughing. “And you’re a True Believer now?” she teased. “Who are they, really?”

Deke stepped forward, reaching out for the Metrics. Jemma handed them over unconsciously. 

“It’s true,” Deke said. He was so uncharacteristically sincere, Jemma started to believe him. “It’s all true. Virgil, my mom, they were right.” 

Jemma swallowed thickly. She looked around the room one more time, then she turned on her heel and walked out the door. She chose not to believe it. She didn’t want to. Life on the Lighthouse allowed no room for hope for the future – and no way to fix the past. She would never accept that the prophecies were true, not after she had lost so many people she loved. How dare they come _now_?

**

May limped through the area known as Processing, trying to gain intel without bringing too much attention to herself. Hard to do when she still couldn’t even walk. She spotted the woman from earlier who had brought the wrist implants to Deke. May supposed it was worth a try. She awkwardly hobbled closer, not at all stealthy, and the woman looked up when she was still several feet away. May noted the expression on her face – a painful, almost longing look – before a mask seemed to fall over her. She was as stoic as May herself could be.

“Hi,” May greeted her, reaching out to the table to support herself. “Do you remember me?”

The woman looked younger up close than May had realized. She probably wasn’t even 30 yet. She wondered for a moment what it would have been like growing up after the world had been destroyed. She couldn’t imagine it. 

“Of course I do,” the woman replied, intently focusing on her work. It was unclear if she didn’t want to be caught shirking her duties – or if she didn’t want to talk to May at all. “Deke believes you’re – them. The saviors from S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“He’s explained some of it to us, but I’m trying to learn more.”

“Who are you, really?” she asked, ignoring May’s comment. “I don’t believe in fairy tales, so don’t lie to me. Where did you come from?”

“A diner,” May stated. The sooner this girl believed her, the sooner May could learn more about the world – and how to get home. “We were eating, and someone came and took us – well, most of us. There was a monolith, a large stone that was a portal to this time.”

She didn’t respond. Instead, she merely continued working. May, however, could see that she was tense with some kind of emotion. May sighed, recognizing that as confusing and traumatic as it was for them, they were at least used to it. Honestly, time travel and the apocalypse seemed like just another Tuesday at this point. But when your entire life had only consisted of busting rocks in space, the chance that there really might be rescuers come to save you probably seemed like far too much to hope for. 

“Look…what’s your name?”

“Jemma,” the girl said, her voice quiet. May glanced down and saw her hands shaking slightly. 

“Jemma – ”

But there was no time to continue. The next few moments happened fast. The interruption of the Kree, the wounding of the servant, and Jemma spontaneously rushing to his aid. When the Kree began to take her away, May stepped forward, preparing herself to fight and feeling an inexplicable desire, even need, to defend this girl. But Jemma shook her head, almost imperceptibly, and May fell back. Moments later, she had disappeared from the room, escorted out by the Kree guards.

**

By Daisy’s count, it had been two, two and a half days, since that asshole had handed her over to the Kree. Since they had neutered her, somehow. Although she still had her powers – she knew this from the few occasions that heavily armed warriors came in, deactivated whatever was blocking them, and ordered her to demonstrate them. She refused, of course, but it only highlighted how powerless she was all the rest of the time. Sure, she still had some combat skills, but with just them, she had no real hope of escape.

She was being held in a surprisingly large and comfortable bedroom, with soft music and a softer mattress and regular deliveries of food. It was disconcerting, actually, because as a prisoner of the Kree, she was expecting far worse. And that just made things far worse, because she kept wondering when the other shoe was going to drop. 

If nothing else, the waiting was getting very dull. She was currently flopped on the bed on her back, her head hanging over the side, gravity causing painful pressure. She’d have to sit up soon – 

The door opened, and Daisy rose quickly, turning to face the new arrivals. It was a guy she’d seen earlier, someone who had introduced himself as a trainer – for what, she didn’t know. Behind him was a young woman, maybe a few years older than Daisy, wearing the blue robes and gold make-up Daisy had begun to recognize as the signature look of Kasius’ slaves. They never spoke to her when they were in her room, and they never responded to any of her questions or pleas. 

The girl looked kind and sad. And crazy perceptive – her eyes briefly glanced around the room, and Daisy would bet she had taken everything in. That became obvious by her look of frustration. No weapons, no escape routes. Daisy could have told her that, unfortunately.

The trainer dude began to speak. “You will have a demonstration of your skill tomorrow night; Kasius will accept no alternatives. This servant will help you prepare.”

He faced the girl then, pressing a button on a device in his hand. She tilted her head, blinked, and seemed to focus on the conversation in a way she hadn’t been before. 

“Kasius expects sufficient progress,” he said to her. “Do not disappoint him.”

Daisy had to laugh at the expression on the other girl’s face. There was certainly a healthy and reasonable amount of fear, but it was almost overpowered by the disdain. 

“Then leave us,” she said. 

Judging by the trainer’s double take, not too many slaves talked back. He didn’t respond, however, but instead simply left the room. Outside the door, Daisy could see two Kree guardians, armed to the teeth as usual. When the door closed behind the trainer, Daisy suddenly felt the inhibitor turn off. The vibrations of the metal and rock around her sung through her body. Daisy exhaled, feeling a small portion of her tension releasing. 

The girl walked closer, taking Daisy out of the moment. “Hello,” she said, “I’m Jemma.”

“Daisy.”

“I’m supposed to help you prepare for the demonstration, Daisy.”

“Yeah, I caught that. And what is that exactly?”

Jemma inhaled, then blew the air out slowly. Her reply was hesitant, low, and very sad. “You will either die, or be sold.”

Daisy blinked, unable to find a response.

“You sure?”

“Yes. It just happened last night to a girl named Abby.”

“Well…I’m not cool with either one of those options, but not dying seems like the best way of fighting my way out of the other one too. So how are you supposed to prepare me?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, really. They seem to think I have a way with Inhumans, but I’ve just been feeling my way through things the last few days. Certainly not listening as much as I’d like.”

“What do you mean by that?”

She gestured at her head. “There’s an implant; it blocks my hearing.”

“Hmm,” Daisy responded. “Probably similar to the one stopping my powers.”

“Yes,” she confirmed. “But they’ll turn yours off for the demonstration. So, let’s make sure you’ve figured out how to use your powers as best as possible.”

Daisy laughed at the unexpected suggestion. Not to be too cocky but… “I’ve got that covered. Been using them for a while now.”

Jemma seemed surprised. She walked past and sat on the foot of the bed, clasping her hands over her lap. “How long?”

Daisy shrugged, shaking her head. “Years.”

And that seemed to confuse her new friend – well, almost-friend – more. “You went through the Mist years ago? And you’re just now having your demonstration battle? Abby made it sound like – well, anyway. What are your powers? Describe them to me, if you don’t want to show me.”

“I don’t care,” Daisy admitted. 

And she didn’t. Showing them to Jemma didn’t seem quite so bad as following the Krees’ orders to use them. She walked over and sat next to Jemma. Holding one hand out, she reached towards the glass on the table across the room so she could focus better. Soon, small ripples appeared in the water, followed by increasingly noticeable shaking of the glass and table. 

Moments later, Jemma hopped to her feet, backing away in surprise or fear. She stared at Daisy with wide eyes. 

“You – you’re the Destroyer of Worlds.”

Daisy scoffed, suppressing the fear that had started to gnaw at her ever since Deke told her about the future or the past or whatever. “I’m not, but yeah, that’s what he called me.”

“He who? Kasius?” Jemma whispered. 

“Nah, the dude who sold me to him. _Deke_.”

“Deke Shaw?!” The incredulity was practically tangible.

“I think so.”

Jemma shook her head. “No. Why would he do something like that?”’

Daisy shrugged. “Money? To save his butt? Because he’s a jackass? Who knows.”

“No, no, no,” Jemma countered. She returned to sit next to Daisy on the bed. “He’s not like that, not really. I’ve known Deke all my life. His mother looked out for me after my parents died, and then after she was gone, Deke and I practically raised each other.”

“Nonetheless, here I am, about to fight to the death because of him.”

Jemma was silent, staring ahead and thinking for a while. “Maybe that’s why,” she finally muttered, more to herself than to Daisy. “If you really are from the past – ”

“I am.”

“Then, if you can’t go back, you can’t destroy the earth.”

Her tone made Daisy a little nervous, all practical and logical and Spock-like. Like she was slowly realizing something that made sense. 

“So,” Daisy said, forcing a laugh, “I take it you’re not going to help me prepare after all.”

Jemma straightened, looking at her with an expression of almost hurt surprise. “No, of course I will. Even if that was Deke’s intention, I – well, I’m no True Believer, but I’d rather take a chance on you than let Kasius gain any more power.”

“Good,” Daisy replied, relieved.

**

Jemma had conferred for hours with Daisy, sharing all she knew or heard of over the years about the powered Inhumans in Kasius’ arsenal. If she couldn’t help Daisy master her abilities, then at least she could help strategize against her potential foes. Eventually, however, their captors returned, turning both inhibitors on again and escorting them to a reception room.

Kasius was there, along with several of his aides. He stood addressing some visitors – humanoids, aliens, dignitaries and terrorists, judging by their various insignia, at least what Jemma could recognize. He seemed to be making a rather bombastic speech, and judging by Daisy’s expression and the way he gestured at her towards the end, Jemma could guess the topic. She sent a supportive smile at Daisy, but the other girl didn’t see it. The whole room’s attention had been caught by a masked man walking to the center of the room. Jemma watched his progress curiously. 

Soon, he removed his helmet, revealing a face that was far too gentle, considering the brooch on the lapel beneath it. He was decidedly attractive; it took Jemma quite some time to look away. She finally focused on Daisy, who was watching the proceedings in shock.

**

Jemma didn’t have to wonder about Daisy’s reaction for long. She was sent for a final training session the next day, before the formal reception and dinner. As soon as they were alone and Jemma’s hearing was working, Daisy rushed over to her. She grabbed her hands, squeezing them in excitement.

“We’re going to get out of this,” she said. “All of us – Coulson, May and the others, me, you too! The gang’s all together now, and nothing can stop us.”

Jemma blinked. While Daisy’s hope was dangerously contagious, she reminded herself that she gave up those dreams ages ago. But she did remember…

“Deke’s mother,” she said hesitantly, “She was one of the True Believers – a real fanatic. We all heard the prophecies growing up, but she always seemed fixated on one in particular. She told me over and over that another person from the past would come later, to save the others.”

Daisy grinned. “I never much was one for destiny, but I’ve had to accept a lot of things over the years. About time all the strange happenings worked in our favor.”

“No, but…” Jemma sighed. “It’s not – none of it – it can’t be real.”

“You keep saying that, yet here we are.”

**

Fitz cautiously put the – he didn’t want to know what it was, really – into his mouth and then barely managed to swallow it. Maybe it was just because he hadn’t eaten much food in the last seven decades, but he thought it was more likely that alien gourmet fare left something to be desired. At least Enoch had fed him something after waking him up. Not nearly enough, though.

Standing next to him, Enoch was pointing out the other guests and describing them in frankly terrifying ways. Fitz was drawing on as much stuff from the Framework as he could bear ( _don’t think about that_ ), but he’d had 25-plus years of experience as just Fitz and that was going to be his default for most things. He nearly lost his meager meal again after Enoch explained what exactly he had pinned to Fitz’s jacket. 

Fitz was distracted, however, by the entrance of a servant. He only could see her profile; her face was covered in gold paint and the flowing blue robe left quite a bit to the imagination, but he immediately knew she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. His eyes tracked her movement across the room as she delivered items for the reception and then later stopped to stare out the window at the stars. She stood near a table with beverages, which seemed serendipitous as Fitz’s mouth had suddenly gone dry. 

“That is Jemma Simmons,” Enoch’s voice broke through. “Would you like me to introduce you?”

Feeling embarrassed, Fitz quickly shook his head and dismissed Enoch with a reminder of all the things they had to do to rescue Daisy and the others before it was too late. But after Enoch left, Fitz simply looked at the woman again.

He was right behind her before he realized he was moving. And then he realized he had no idea what to say.

It was almost a good thing Kasius appeared when he did. Fitz made up some excuse for his behavior, lies that were hard to tell due to the way she stared curiously at him. Fitz spared one awkward glance over his shoulder as Kasius led him away. The woman was still staring.

**

It was a dangerous chance, one that could prove fatal. The stubbornest part of Jemma still believed that these people weren’t who they claimed to be. But the part of her that still hoped, the little voice that sounded suspiciously like Deke’s mother, and even more distantly in her memories, her own parents – those parts told her to take a chance. Now that she was one of Kasius’ slaves, just one chance was all she had.

So, at dinner, she couldn’t take her eyes off the man who either was one of Daisy’s friends from the past there to save them all or who was a monstrous killer. And when her chance came during the serving of the next course, she jumped with a leap of faith. 

Moments later, she nearly had a panic attack when someone asked the man about his reluctance to eat the delicacy. She watched as he reached down and then froze. As if on cue, he made eye contact with Jemma, who carefully pulled the blade out of her sleeve to show him. 

His nod was almost imperceptible. She wasn’t dead – yet. He had decided to trust her in return for her own faith.

**

Every cell in Jemma’s body was on edge, perhaps to make up for her lack of hearing. She was _aware_ of Kasius just ahead of her and the man from the past to his left. Kasius’ brother was closest to her, and one of his aides sat next to him. Sinara was in the arena dueling with Daisy.

Jemma felt like she was clawing her way through a fog, trying to keep up with everyone. In the earlier fight, the woman May, who had tried to help her earlier and was still clearly injured, had struggled against her opponent. She barely survived, only to be dragged out to God knows where after the man said something to stop the fight. May’s expression had changed from one of shock, even relief, to one that made Jemma herself feel a little scared about retribution. So, she wondered what exactly had happened there.

But she didn’t wonder too much, because her focus was almost entirely consumed by Daisy just barely holding on. And then, with a lucky hit, she overpowered Sinara. Moments later, she had sent vibrations of air at the ground, lifting herself up to the audience’s level. Everything seemed to happen at once, then, and before Jemma even realized it, she had reached out, grabbed Kasius, and sliced her knife across his neck. 

The man from the past reached out to her. Instinctively, Jemma took his hand and allowed him to propel her forward over the edge, onto the platform below. He followed, twisting and shooting at the controls as he fell. He landed on the level just above her and stumbled slightly. Without thinking, Jemma reached out to steady him. 

They held onto each other, staring into each other’s eyes. He seemed like he wanted to say something or was waiting for her to, but – Jemma swallowed nervously, fighting an inexplicable urge to kiss this complete stranger. Before she could do anything crazy, however, they were on the move again.

Lifting Daisy up and hauling her between them, they quickly exited the arena.


	2. Chapter 2

They hadn’t made it far in their escape before finding a small room to regroup. Jemma dug through a basket for clothes that would be easier to move in and hurried behind a screen to change. Part of her was afraid the other two would just leave her now, so she returned as quickly as she could, still wiping the make-up off her face. She looked up at them, smiling; Daisy was looking out the far door but the man stared back at her with an expression she couldn’t really understand. And promptly forgot about when the shooting pains from the implant caused Jemma’s knees to buckle. She cried out, nearly collapsing before the others reached her and maneuvered her to the small cot in the center of the room. 

Shortly after, she was staring into the man’s blue eyes as he leaned over her. She recognized his current expression as extreme worry and perhaps some reluctance. He moved even closer, pinning her down with his body as he held her head in place. For a brief moment, all Jemma could focus on was how nice it felt to have him pressed against her. And then she felt an instrument digging in her ear for the implant. Jemma shouted, closing her eyes against the pain and clinging to the man’s arm. 

Finally, it was over. Jemma could hear her own loud breathing, the whir of the base, the sounds of a fight. She opened her eyes and turned her head to see Daisy battling a Kree warrior. Exhaling, Jemma looked up again. The man was staring at her, either unaware of Daisy’s fight or perhaps unconcerned with anything but Jemma herself. She swallowed thickly and tried to sit up.

He seemed to realize then that he was still holding her down. He backed away, turning red, but fortunately for Jemma’s lack of balance and strength at the moment, he didn’t let her go completely. Squeezing her elbows, he gave he a supportive smile. Jemma couldn’t look away.

“Hi,” he said. “I’m Fitz.”

His voice sounded different, with an accent she had never heard before, although she had a sudden vivid flashback to, of all people, Deke’s mother, whose own voice had certain traces of the same sound or cadence. By the time Jemma’s generation had grown up, accents had become something of a relic in the homogenized world of the Lighthouse. 

“I’m Jemma,” she replied, barely above a whisper. 

She didn’t know if that was because she still wasn’t used to regulating her volume or because she still was confused by everything going on around her. Perhaps she was just somewhat stunned by the strange pull of attraction she felt for the man in front of her. 

He never let her go, even as they rose from the bed. She had the vague thought that they were standing far too closely and they really should separate. But all she could do was continue to gaze at him. 

“Hey!” Daisy broke through the spell that seemed to have fallen over them. Jemma blinked, then turned to her in embarrassment. “We’ve gotta get out of here!”

Fitz released one of her elbows then, using the grip on her other one to push her forward. Jemma moved, stepping over the body of the Kree guard. Once she entered the hall, she broke into a run behind Daisy. She desperately fought the urge to look over her shoulder at Fitz as she listened to his own footfalls right behind her.

**

Their escape had been anything but easy, including but not limited to the disastrous sight of Fitz’s ship exploding. The worst moment, however, came when Fitz was shot by one of the Kree pursuing them. They managed to slip away and were now in an engineering room of some kind. Jemma, who had been supporting Fitz, helped him lower slowly to the ground. She cringed with every one of his small gasps of pain. Once he was seated, she knelt over him, hands hovering over the wound a moment before she reached down to try to treat it. She called on the memories of first aid Deke’s mother had taught her – the same skills that had brought her to the attention of Kasius – and began to work. The clinical steps enabled her to push aside the thrill that rushed through her from the sensation of his muscles flexing under her hands.

But she was soon distracted even more by the sudden appearance of another person, someone Daisy promptly began to fight. It took her a moment to realize it was Deke.

“Stop, Daisy!” 

“This is the guy who sold me to Kasius,” Daisy replied angrily. 

Next to her, Fitz grumbled something murderous, as he pushed off the ground and tried to stand. He collapsed, exhaling in pain, and Jemma focused on him again. Deke would have to explain himself another time.

**

Fitz breathed shallowly, wincing every so often at the pain in his side. He held one hand to the wound, just over the bandages that the girl from the future, Jemma, had applied. As happy as he was to see the others, he was happier still to just sit down and rest. Jemma sat next to him, moving his hand aside so she could inspect his injury. Fitz let her, trusting her implicitly despite not even really knowing her. Or, maybe, he just liked the feel of her hands on him. He had little previous experience to compare it to, and what little he did had been forced into his brain by an evil robot ( _don’t think about that_ ), but he had never been so enamored. He was a scientist, so he absolutely did not believe in love at first sight. But she was brave and kind and gorgeous.

There was little time to admire her, however, and even less to get to know her. Soon enough, they were rushing to figure out their next move, as their Kree pursuers fought their way through the pile of rocks Flint had moved in front of the door. 

Deke – who was the worst, honestly – eventually gave up his anti-gravity belt. After some debate, it was decided that he and Jemma should go up the lift shaft first. Feeling strangely self-conscious, Fitz stepped into it, looking up to see the distance they had to travel before facing Jemma again. She gave him a small smile before wrapping her arms around him. Fitz exhaled, struggling not to close his eyes in pleasure. She pressed one hand firmly against his lower back, hugging him tightly. He heard the click as she pressed the button, and then felt his stomach drop as they started to rise into the air. 

Under ordinary circumstances, he would be entirely focused on the fact that he was _flying_. Yet just then, all he could really concentrate on was the scent of her hair as he pressed his nose against the side of her head. He opened his eyes again just in time to see the level they were supposed to go to. He reached one arm out, grabbing the ledge of the floor. The jolt of their sudden stop caused Jemma to gasp, clutch him tighter, and move her body against his. Rather dangerously, in fact, and Fitz was almost relieved to separate as they helped pull each other onto the ground. 

Fitz realized he was breathing heavily as he collapsed, propping himself up with one elbow. He groaned, putting his other hand on his stomach, and watched as Jemma leaned over the edge. She called out a soft warning before dropping the anti-gravity device back down the chute. And then she turned to him. 

They held each other’s gaze for a brief moment, before Jemma realized he was in pain. Pain that entirely disappeared when she practically draped herself over him, one hand covering his over the wound and her legs intertwining with his. He wondered if she even knew that what she was doing would not be very normal back in his time. He wondered if it was even normal now or if she was just as unstoppably drawn to him as he was to her. He wondered if his body would respond predictably again and mortify him. 

“Are you OK?” she whispered. 

He nodded without even fully assessing the wound to make sure it was true. As if possessed, he adjusted his position, lowering down to the ground in order to free his other arm. She moved with him, even before he buried his hand in her hair and tugged her closer. Fitz felt his eyes start to close, and her puffs of warm breath against his lips. She made a small sound of shock or pleasure or confusion. Her legs moved between his again, until she was pressed against him even more, her hips unconsciously rubbing against his. Fitz had no idea what was happening, what he was doing. This was somehow even more surreal than the Framework ( _don’t think about that_ ).

Just as they were finally about to meet in a kiss, a noise made them jump apart. Fitz choked back an exclamation of pain at the sudden movement, but he was also somewhat grateful at the interruption. He didn’t know how he’d explain it if Mack and Yo-Yo had caught them in an embrace.

In embarrassment – and perhaps a little self-preservation, he didn’t really look at Jemma again, and definitely didn’t touch her, until they were helping each other strap into the seats of the trawler. It felt entirely natural, holding her hand as they rocketed towards the fragment of the earth. She gave his hand a little squeeze just before they crashed.

**

The events of the day – from escaping Kasius to stealing a trawler for a mad flight to the earth to nearly kissing a complete stranger (and frankly, regretting the interruption) – had Jemma reeling. But nothing was as surprising as when they entered a large, grounded plane that was serving as a home for the survivors – _survivors_ – on the fragmentary planet.

Fitz, showing off slightly if she wasn’t mistaken, told her that he had been the one to design the plane, back when it was new. Jemma turned in a circle, staring in awe at the dated but still amazing technology. She skimmed a hand over one of the consoles, imagining what it was like before it had been covered by dust. And then, at the sound of someone entering the room, she turned to look at – 

“Robin?” she whispered, not quite ready to believe that it was her, despite all the recent blows to her skepticism. “You’re alive.”

The elderly woman, now even more aged than Jemma remembered her from so many years ago, nodded. She shuffled closer, holding her hand out to Jemma. Jemma met her halfway, reaching out and gripping tightly. She tried not to cry. Seeing Robin was almost like seeing her own parents again. She could remember numerous evenings, sitting on her father’s lap with his arms around her, listening to the other adults talk quietly over Robin’s muttering, smiling at Deke across the small room in his mother’s embrace and at Virgil playing on the floor with the drawings Robin discarded. Later, the adults’ conversations would take the form of the prophecies, told as fairy tales to dream-filled children. She had driven all those memories out of her mind, and it physically hurt as they came rushing back. 

Robin’s greeting was short, however. Her eyes shifted focus to Fitz and then past him, to May. Robin let go of Jemma’s hand, as she walked closer to May. The two women hugged each other like old friends. Jemma watched their interactions curiously. It took her a moment to realize that Fitz stepped up close beside her. Together, they watched May and Robin talk. 

“To me, she was a little girl only days ago,” Fitz observed quietly.

**

Daisy rubbed her head and neck, as if it would somehow break or remove the implant in there. Although, she had started to wonder about just staying powerless. If she physically couldn’t quake anything, then…

But Coulson and May certainly didn’t share those thoughts. They had sent her off to Fitz to see if he could do something about it. Not that he wasn’t busy with everything else that had been broken or worn down by time on the Zephyr. Not that it wasn’t enough that he had frozen himself for a lifetime just to find them. Daisy smiled to herself. Good old Fitz. She always could count on him. 

She didn’t bother announcing herself or knocking as she entered the room, but she did immediately pull back and hide behind the ajar door for a moment to watch. Fitz and Jemma were standing weirdly close to each other, gazing into each other’s eyes. For a crazy second, Daisy thought they were going to start making out – or more. She’d be the first person to admit that nerdy little Fitz had grown up quite a bit since she met him. She’d also be the first person to admit that Jemma was hella pretty. She just didn’t think they’d be about to jump each other’s bones two minutes after meeting each other. 

And then…they didn’t. She wasn’t sure which of the three of them felt most disappointed when, blushing, the two stepped away from each other and focused on something on the wall. Daisy knocked, pretending she had only just arrived as she stepped through the door.

“Hey, what’s up?” she asked.

Fitz gave her a slight double-take, glancing at Jemma in between. He seemed embarrassed, and Daisy tried not to smirk. 

“Jemma had a brilliant idea about…that.”

Daisy noted the pleased look on Jemma’s face at the compliment, even as she stared at the set-up. It was definitely something that had not been on the Zephyr before. 

“What is it?”

“We think something that will make the monolith work. Get us back to our time.”

Daisy turned to look at them both. Fitz seemed excited and relieved, while Jemma’s own expression was unreadable. Uncertain how to respond, she just changed the subject.

“Hey, do either of you have an idea about this implant thing?” she asked, gesturing at the side of her head. “I’m about as grounded as this plane with it in.”

Fitz made a quick face of disgust, probably at the thought of having to cut it out. But without Piper, he was the only one there with any sort of field medic training. It was Jemma who stepped forward, though, shaking her head.

“From what I’ve heard and seen, there’s nothing that can be done. It’s too dangerous.”

Daisy didn’t know what exactly she felt at that news.

**

When this was all over, Jemma would need to have a little cry somewhere. Things were happening too quickly to react to now – Robin’s death, in particular, as well as learning that Deke’s father had been killed. She didn’t know how she’d tell Deke that he’d survived longer than they’d thought, but still not long enough to reconcile with his son. She wondered if she’d even have the chance, or if she’d die before the end of the day.

Because they were actually going back there to confront Kasius and the other Kree. They planned to take the Lighthouse back for humans to control. Flint would bring the shards of the monolith together again, and they would return to their time to stop all of this from ever happening in the first place.

Jemma didn’t really believe that was possible, and she didn’t know what would happen to her anyway, if they were successful. Or maybe she didn’t _want_ to think they could do it. She had started to feel some sort of strange attachment to these supposed saviors from the past. They were no longer fairy tales; they were her friends. Daisy, May, Coulson. 

Fitz. 

He was so brilliant. So compassionate. In some ways, he reminded her strongly of Deke’s mother, this combination of intelligence and humanity and perseverance and belief – a set of traits so unexpected and heartbreakingly beautiful in the shadow of destruction and pain. In other ways, particularly how his body had felt against hers, he was completely new but just as unexpected. Things she had feared to desire for so long – things like love and family, things that would never be hers – sparked inside her every time she glanced at him. 

And if their plan worked, she’d lose the fleeting dream that any of it would ever come true. 

But once they landed, there was no time to worry anymore. They met up with the others again, Flint and Deke, Mack and Elena. They fought and they ran. Fitz took out a few Kree warriors singlehandedly with a clever trap that had Daisy shooting him an odd look. And soon, after she had done her best to explain to Flint how to sense the pieces of the monolith, he was bringing the fragments all to one place. 

There was more chaos, as they realized Mack and Elena were missing. Jemma, knowing the Lighthouse far better than the rest of them, took off to find them before anyone could stop her. She intercepted Deke at one point, sparing only a few seconds to hug him, to admonish him to take care of himself. He was helping Tess and one of the other servitors move all the humans to a safer level. She just hoped she’d see him again. 

First, though, she was forced to see Kasius again. He was fighting Mack in the arena, and clearly had taken some sort of drug that had given him extra strength and speed. Not enough, however, to stop Jemma before she stepped up behind him. She pulled the hearing blocker out of her pocket and held it to his own ear. With vindictive victory, she watched as he struggled to adjust to the loss and disorientation and pain. He turned to her, reaching out as if to try to hurt her, but he’d never hurt her again.

She stepped back, watching wide-eyed as Mack stabbed him in the back.

But she couldn’t savor his death for long. Elena was shouting at them from the door of the arena. Mack grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the room.

They were halfway back to the room with the monolith when they heard Enoch over the communication transmitter. It wasn’t working. The machine was falling apart, not enough energy to sustain it as it tried to control the device. Enoch was dying. Everything they’d fought and bled and hoped for was slipping through their fingers. 

It was then that Jemma admitted she _did_ believe. She had been so afraid to, even after all the prophecies started coming true. But now, at the end of it all, she knew. She knew what she had to do to make sure they could save the world. Someone had to be there to throw the switch, if Enoch couldn’t. 

She broke away from the other two, running towards where the Zephyr had docked. Taking two small hallways that no one who hadn’t grown up there would ever be able to find, she arrived in the nick of time. 

“Enoch!” she shouted.

He was sitting on the floor, and his head flopped to the side so he could look at her. She crouched beside him, and picked up the communicator in his hand. She pressed the button, prepared to tell the others she was there and ask them what she should do.

“When I die, my battery chemistry will consume my body, creating a thermal feedback capable of delivering more than enough power to open the Monolith,” Enoch informed her.

Jemma hesitated, looking at him. “What will happen to anyone standing next to you, flipping the switch?” she asked, a part of her already aware of the answer.

“That person would be completely atomized.”

Her finger slipped off the button with a crackle of static which was soon replaced by the frantic voices of Daisy and Fitz. They begged her to stop, to get away to safety. She closed her eyes briefly, listening to the unusual way he spoke. She imagined a lifetime of hearing him say her name, whispering in her ear as he held her in bed, arguing over science and technology and space and time. And then she opened her eyes. She pressed the button and held the device up to her mouth.

“Be ready. I’m hooking him up now.”

The next few moments happened quickly, but they also seemed to drag. Soon, it was ready, Enoch just barely hanging on.

“Are you ready?” she asked. 

There was a pause, and then Fitz again. “We’re here,” he confirmed. “But Jemma – ”

She didn’t stop to listen. She threw the switch and closed her eyes at the heat and brightness behind her as the reactions Enoch warned her about began. She felt a pull in her stomach as the shard of monolith in the machine responded. She stumbled forward toward the wall and an all-consuming blackness and – 

Nearly tripped as she kept going. Wheeling her arms around for balance, Jemma opened her eyes. She inhaled sharply in surprise, in relief, in confusion. All around her were buildings and grass and trees. She blinked against the bright sun shining in a blue, blue sky. Was this the afterlife? Or had they succeeded and she was now living in a saved world? Where was she? 

A vehicle of some sort drove past her, and a person jogging nearby sang along to a small radio in his hands. 

_When_ was she?


	3. Chapter 3

In awe, Jemma strolled down the street. Well, perhaps it was a street. She wondered if it was a lane, or avenue, or boulevard. The abstract distinctions between all the old words never seemed to stick with her. Turning in a circle and blinking against the bright sun, she took in everything, connecting each new observation with something in the back of her mind. She tried to remember her parents’ stories to see if they had embellished anything. She compared it to Deke’s simulated world to see how successful he had been in creating or re-creating. And she – oh! A tree. 

Jemma walked closer, reaching one hand out to feel the bark, before wrapping her arms around it in a hug. She inhaled deeply, curious how exactly trees smelled. Soon, she saw a woman staring at her, confused and perhaps a touch wary. Jemma shot her an awkward smile and stepped back, hurrying away before she drew any more attention to herself. 

She was another block or so down the road (alley? highway?) when she glanced over and saw a discarded – well, she believed it was an ice cream cone – in a garbage can. As much as she wanted to experience the taste of the treat her father used to describe, she had enough self-control not to eat out of the trash. She had never sunk so low on the Lighthouse and she wasn’t about to start now. 

But it did make her realize how hungry she was. 

Jemma looked around, spotting something that seemed like a restaurant. She hurried towards it, narrowly avoiding being struck by a passing car she had failed to notice – or even look for. With a pounding heart from the close call, she pulled open the door. It was dark and the air smelled stale. The floors were sticky, and music played from a machine in the corner of the room. Deke had gotten at least one thing remarkably accurate. 

She walked up to the bar, slid one palm along the smooth wood, and climbed onto the tall seat next to her. The guy standing behind the bar had one towel flung over his shoulder. He looked at her, his eyes noticeably lingering over her chest.

“What can I get you, honey?”

“Um, I’d like to try a beer, please,” she requested, thinking of Deke’s typical order in his simulation.

Within a few moments, it was placed in front of her. It was a large glass full of amber liquid with a foamy head on top. Jemma smiled, reaching out to pick it up and take a sip.

She barely managed to hang onto the glass and replace it on the bar as she coughed violently. Her eyes burned, and for a moment, she feared she would vomit. 

It was disgusting.

Once she regained the power of speech, she shook her head, pointed at the glass, and said, “Do you have anything else that’s like this but delicious?” 

The bartender looked at her briefly, before reaching under the table and returning with a bottle full of a clear liquid. Jemma leaned forward to read the label – _Zima_. Sounded promising. 

She took a hesitant sip, then sighed in relief and enjoyment. 

“Would you like anything to eat?” the bartender asked.

“Oh, yes!”

The Zima paired perfectly with the cheeseburger and fries.

**

Daisy pulled at the sleeve of the shirt she had, well, borrowed from Noah. It didn’t fit quite right, but it made her pass as a government employee – a regular one, not a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent – in a pinch. She didn’t quite know how to explain it, but the alerts she had set up had informed her that someone had been spotted and picked up by local police. It was just not a person she ever would have guessed. How Jemma made it to the present time, she couldn’t begin to figure out. But there was one thing Daisy did know. Leaving her in jail was the absolute last thing any of them wanted.

When she opened the door and walked inside, Daisy saw Jemma leaning against the bars of her cell, arms looped through them as she seemed to be holding on for balance. She rocked slowly back and forth, _singing_. Daisy shook her head.

“Can I help you, ma’am?”

Daisy refocused on the deputy in front of her. She pasted on a smile she hoped oozed with professional solidarity. 

“Hey, it’s you!” Jemma suddenly shouted, having finally noticed the new arrival.

Daisy’s smile faltered, but she talked even faster. She needed to get Jemma out of there before she said anything too difficult to talk their way out of. 

Several minutes later, still not sure how she managed it, Daisy led a drunken Jemma out of lock-up. Jemma clung to her arm, wavering with each step and occasionally giggling. 

“How much did you have to drink?” Daisy grumbled.

“Oh! Daisy you wouldn’t believe how yummy this drink called Zima is!”

“ _Zima_? Wow.”

Daisy shook her head in disbelief as she continued to lead Jemma as far away from the police station as she could, as fast as she could. They needed to clear out of there before the deputies tried to call and check up on any of the details she had supplied. She shuddered to think what Jemma might have said or done if she hadn’t made it there when she did. But honestly, she had to admit that a part of her was glad the other girl was there. 

“You’re lucky I got you out of there, drunkard,” Daisy said fondly.

“I guess we’re even now,” Jemma agreed. 

“Even!” Daisy scoffed. “How so? You never had to rescue – ”

“Did too!” Jemma interrupted, indignant. “Fitz and I saved your butt.”

“OK,” Daisy insincerely agreed. “Sure.”

Jemma didn’t respond for a long beat – she seemed distracted by storefront windows as they passed. Daisy tugged on her arm. They were almost to the covert entrance that would take them down several tunnels and eventually into the Lighthouse base. 

“Fitz has a cute butt,” Jemma unexpectedly announced. Daisy stared in shocked amusement, unable to come up with a response. And especially not when Jemma added, “I want to squeeze it.”

Daisy burst into laughter. 

“It’s so perky,” Jemma explained. 

“Please stop,” Daisy choked out. “I can’t – oh my God.”

**

Fitz walked slowly, the cart more difficult to push than he would have expected. There had been one terrifying surprise after another that day, and his mind was completely elsewhere. In particular, it was in the operating room with Elena. He hoped she survived. He knew Mack would be able to help her with the loss of her – Mack was good at things like that. He’d been the one to help Fitz after all, when no one else could. She just needed to survive.

“Hey.”

Fitz turned to face Daisy, noticing Noah do the same next to him. He nodded in greeting.

“Did you hear about our new arrival?”

And OK. Maybe Fitz’s mind wasn’t _entirely_ devoted to concern over Elena. Maybe a _small_ part of it was also thinking about Jemma being there. Maybe he was reminding himself he couldn’t just abandon his duties to run and see her with his own two eyes. He took some comfort from the fact that he’d have to be the one to explain her arrival, so he’d get to spend several days working with her. 

He couldn’t wait. 

Their small group finally stopped in front of the set of monoliths. The white one, Fitz of course recognized, but he wondered what the others did. He stared at them curiously, only for Daisy to distract him again. She was standing just to his side, arms crossed over her chest, head tilted in appraisal. If he didn’t know better, he’d say she was looking at his arse. 

“What?” Fitz asked, turning in a half-circle to attempt to see what she was looking at.

Daisy shrugged. “I guess I can see it,” she observed. 

Fitz’s confusion only grew. “See what?”

There was no time to answer. The beacon they’d just recovered started making an odd noise.

“Run,” Noah stated. 

Both Fitz and Daisy faced him in alarm. Noah held his arms out to either side, ushering them away before turning and appearing to wrap himself over the device. The explosion rocked the room.

**

Fitz stumbled over his explanation when Jemma entered the room behind Daisy. He offered her a brief smile before focusing on Coulson and the others.

“A fear dimension?” Coulson asked skeptically.

Fitz sighed, annoyed by his doubt. As if this was the weirdest thing they’d ever faced. He controlled his reaction before nodding. 

“But who would be afraid of a meadow?” Mack asked.

A small _meep_ distracted Fitz. He turned to face its source and noticed Jemma had turned exceedingly pale. She walked closer to him, apparently unaware she was even moving. 

“Meadow?” she whispered. “Isn’t that one of those wide, open spaces in nature?”

Fitz leaned forward to hit a computer button. The camera’s view of Level 27 appeared on the screen. It was quite beautiful, really, reminding him of some parts of the UK. Low, rolling hills, green as far as the eyes could see, some flowers dotting the landscape here and there, and a sun burning brightly among wispy clouds in a blue sky.

Jemma’s hand darted out, wrapping around his arm and squeezing in terror. 

“Why – why – what – where?”

“Jemma?” Daisy asked, snickering slightly. “Are you afraid of grass?”

Fitz felt affronted on Jemma’s behalf, wanting to defend her. Not that she needed it. She turned on Daisy, practically hissing her response.

“You try growing up in a tin can in space.”

“OK,” Coulson interrupted, pinching his nose against what Fitz guessed was an impending headache. “Let’s focus on getting rid of the manifestations of our deepest fears…whatever they may be.”

**

It made Jemma nervous to know that somewhere 150 feet below her was the meadow, not to mention that she could turn the corner and run into a menacing copy of Kasius or another Kree. But Fitz was working on fixing it and she had faith in him.

He was working very hard though. She could tell he was stressed and not sleeping. It made him tug at his hair until it was charmingly messy, and it made the rest of him very much not charming at all. While Jemma found his temper-driven outbursts somewhat amusing and even sexy at times, she could tell she was the only one. But she was doing what she could to help. Sometimes that meant sitting in the room while he worked, letting him bounce ideas off her and doing her best to provide an intelligent response. Sometimes, like just then, that meant going in search of snack food. She wondered what exactly Maltesers were and if she’d be able to find any for him in the storage room. At the moment, she was staring into a box filled with something called Twinkies. She rifled around inside for a moment, checking for anything else and making a mental note to try one later. Then she returned the box and turned the corner to check the next aisle.

“Jemma.”

The voice – as well as the sudden appearance of her mother in front of her – made her jump.

**

It took Fitz a long time to notice that Jemma hadn’t returned. It didn’t take him very long at all to convince himself to take a break and go in search of her. He eventually found her in the storage room, sitting in a corner with her arms wrapped around her knees. One shelf was tipped over, boxes strewn on the floor. Jemma was staring at the mess and didn’t hear him say her name at first.

Finally, she looked up. At the sight of the tear stains on her cheeks, Fitz rushed forward, dropping to his knees and hugging her.

“Are you OK? Are you hurt?”

He felt her hand grip onto his shirt, pulling at his lapel. 

“No,” she whispered. “Just – I saw my mother. And then I saw her die again.”

Fitz swallowed thickly. He separated only a few inches from her, just enough to turn and sit down next to her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, fighting an inappropriate smile when she leaned closer and rested her head against his chest.

“It wasn’t real,” he reminded her, hoping it was comforting. 

“I know, but…it was once.”

Fitz had no idea how to respond, so he just held her as she cried. He murmured soft nonsense, dropping a kiss or two to her forehead and trying not to feel guilty about how much he enjoyed the contact.

Finally, she calmed. “But now we can fix it,” she observed. “Change the future.”

Fitz tensed. He hated to be the one to dash her hopes, but he couldn’t lie to her either.

“I don’t think so,” he said slowly. “I don’t think that’s how time works.” 

She twisted to look up at him, offering him a small smile that made him feel like he would break the laws of the universe just for her. 

“I used to think the prophecies were nothing but foolish dreams told to children. But then you came.”

Her optimism was contagious, or maybe he just couldn’t bring himself to tell her it was impossible. Maybe just knowing someone like her proved that nothing was impossible.

“I’m glad I met you, Jemma Simmons. And if I can make your future better, I will.”

“There’s a very simple way to do that,” she said slyly, making Fitz blush and wonder if she meant it the way he had interpreted it. 

“I’m not – I’m not good with these sorts of things.”

“What sort?” she asked, tightening her arm around his waist as she cuddled closer.

“Um. Women. Relationships. I’ve never really had anyone in my life…” He trailed off, feeling his stomach flip with nausea as he remembered that wasn’t entirely true ( _don’t think about that_ ). 

Something in his response must have tipped her off, though. After a long silence, he looked down at her again and saw her watching him curiously.

“What’s your biggest fear?” she asked. 

He looked away again. After a deep breath, he told her. “Daisy told me about the Framework that Deke created in the future. There was something like that here, something – something I helped build. We were all in there at one point, but not willingly except for Daisy and Elena. I – did things, evil things, and there was this…woman, I guess…and I don’t know. It wasn’t me, but it was, and it’s still inside my head, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be rid of the things I did and the people I hurt. Killed.”

He was silent for a moment, waiting for her to leave him. But she didn’t, and he felt brave enough to continue.

“She took it all from me. Not just my morality and identity but – my first time falling in love, my first kiss, my first – ” he shrugged, embarrassed to say it out loud. 

The base hummed quietly around them. He could hear his heart beating and his shaky breaths. Finally, Jemma spoke.

“I’ve been in Deke’s simulation before, and even just a few moments could do a number on a person. It was this weird combination of the life you dreamed of, yet a world that wasn’t quite right. And when you left it, you were relieved and regretful at the same time. You wanted it back but couldn’t bear the thought. And that was a world that was supposedly better than reality, giving me the life that I should have been able to live. I can’t imagine how it would feel if it was worse than what I was trying to escape. But for me, it always faded and disappeared and I knew who I was again, the real me. Soon it will be the same for you too.”

“I hope so. It doesn’t seem like it right now.”

“So in the meantime, cling to what’s real and what’s good.”

“Right now, that seems to be pretty much you.”

“Then cling to me as much as you want,” Jemma said, the returning smirk clear in her voice. “I’m OK with that.”


	4. Chapter 4

“It’s a temporary fix,” Fitz explained, “but it’s holding for now. The manifestations are beginning to disappear.”

“Oh, good.” 

Jemma wanted to praise him, but she was mostly too confused about where he was leading her. She was even more focused on the feel of his hand as it clasped her own. His other hand held a bag practically bursting at the seams, which he had declined to explain when he first found her in her room.

“So, we have to hurry.”

“Hurry to where?”

“The meadow.”

Jemma stopped in her tracks. Fitz stumbled from the momentum, before turning to face her. He chuckled, no doubt at the expression on her face.

“What are you talking about, Fitz?”

Fitz closed the distance between them. They stared into each other’s eyes for a long moment. 

“Let me show you there’s nothing to be frightened of.”

Jemma blinked, hesitating. Finally, she nodded. Fitz’s smile in response was radiant and wide. He started walking again, and Jemma followed closer. She wanted to pretend it was out of eagerness, but truthfully, she was still nervous and so it was perhaps mostly out of fear.

They entered the elevator. Jemma watched as Fitz pressed the button for Level 27. When he glanced at her, she gave him a smile that was meant to be reassuring. 

The door opened, prompting a gasp of alarm and – honestly – wonder at the sight. The video image hadn’t done it justice. The grass spread out as far as the eyes could see. Butterflies flew from flower to flower. Jemma wrapped her free arm around her stomach as she tried to remember whether butterflies stung people, or worse, if they were poisonous. 

“Trust me,” Fitz begged, leading her into the expanse as the elevator door closed behind them. Jemma glanced over her shoulder at her escape route, before facing forward again. She tightened her grip on Fitz’s hand.

He stopped after several feet, although Jemma was unclear what made him choose that exact spot until he explained, “We’re out of the range of the base’s security cameras now. We’ll have some privacy.”

Jemma grinned, her fears suddenly – although not completely – being replaced with anticipation.

“Privacy for what, exactly?” she asked coyly. 

Fitz dropped the bag, pulling her closer into an embrace as he hooked his hands on her lower back. She didn’t know him that well yet, but she knew him well enough to know he was nervous underneath the façade of debonair seduction. She knew him well enough to know she wanted to know him better – in every sense. 

Rather than answering – or perhaps as an answer, he leaned closer, bringing his face to hers ever so slowly, as if giving her unwanted and unneeded time to stop him. When their mouths finally touched, the kiss was soft, light, brief, chaste. They didn’t separate far. Jemma knew he could feel her sigh break across his lips just as she could feel his own lips spread into a smile. She tilted her head up, indicating she wanted another kiss, and one much more passionate. 

But he moved away then. Jemma opened her eyes in surprised confusion to watch him open the bag he had brought. First, he pulled out a large, fluffy blanket. She stepped back as he shook it out and lowered it to the ground. 

“Sit down.”

Jemma stared for a moment. Sitting would bring her closer to the grass and the dirt and whatever creepy-crawlies were hidden in them. Sitting also seemed like a very promising way to get more kisses. She chose the kisses, dropping to her knees before readjusting onto her butt. 

Fitz sat next to her, reaching out to pull the bag closer. She watched as he dug inside it and produced two glasses and a bottle. 

“Oh,” Jemma observed in disappointment, “you didn’t bring Zima.”

Fitz snorted as he handed her the glasses before using some kind of device to remove a piece of what looked like wood from the bottle. “No.”

“I like Zima.”

“You’ll like this, too.”

He poured a small amount into each glass that Jemma held out, then stuffed the wood back into the bottle to close it. He propped the bottle against the bag, before facing her again and taking back one of the glasses. Jemma watched, her expression fond and hopeful, as he struggled for something to say. Finally, he inhaled, gave her a smile, and clinked his glass against hers.

“To the future,” he whispered.

Her heart felt like it soared, or beat extra hard, or stopped. She beamed at him before lifting her glass to her mouth for a tentative sip.

“Oh, that _is_ good!” 

Fitz laughed, reaching out before she could down the rest of it.

“Don’t drink it too fast,” he warned. 

Something about the twinkle in his eye, or the way the movement had left him angled towards her, made her not want to drink it at all. It made her want to see how it tasted when she sucked the remnants off his lips and tongue. So, she tossed her glass aside, not caring about the leftover liquid as it spilled onto the ground, and she pounced on him.

He yelped in surprise, turning and holding his own glass far out to the side. Without a full sense of whether she was doing any of it right, Jemma straddled him, pushing him all the way down and following closely. Just before their mouths touched, she saw out of the corner of his eye him toss his own glass away. His hands wrapped around her again, one moving to her lower back – practically her butt – and one to the back of her head, where he threaded his fingers through her hair and pulled her closer into the kiss. 

The drink still tasted good, but he tasted even better. 

Some moments passed, during which Jemma kissed him as passionately as she could. She buried her hands in his hair, and rocked her hips, feeling his body respond beneath hers until a hard ridge pressed against the V of her legs and made her parts down below feel all tingly and swollen. She wanted to push down her clothes, and his, and feel him completely, but she also wanted to slow down and savor and – 

He pushed up, turning them until she was on her back and he was propped above her. He pulled away just far enough for them to feel each other’s rough breaths on their faces. Jemma swallowed, opened her eyes, and met his gaze. He seemed dazed with arousal, yet respectfully hesitant.

“Is this – are you sure you want this?”

Jemma nodded immediately, doubt coming only a second later. Not doubt about her answer, however. “But I’m not sure what I’m doing,” she admitted. “I’ve never…done this before.”

“Me neither,” he confessed. “I mean – in the Framework with…with her, but not for real. Not with – someone I lo – me neither.”

Jemma’s smile was quick but sincere. She reached a hand up to cup his cheek as she stared back at him, waiting. 

“So,” Fitz finally concluded, “we figure it out together?”

She grinned, nodding in gleeful anticipation. Fitz lowered down, kissing her again. This time, it was less rushed, less frenzied, but no less heady and pleasurable. He rolled his hips against hers, the hardness from before returning to its full thickness. Jemma groaned as he rubbed against her just right. 

His hands moved over her body, lightly grazing her hip and the side of her breast, before stopping at the collar of her shirt. He unbuttoned the top few buttons, starting to move to the next when his fingers caught on the chain of her necklace. She sat up, pushing him off her for a moment as she reached up for the clasp. She removed it quickly, putting it on the corner of the blanket, and then reached out for him again. 

Fitz glanced at it, followed by a double-take. “That looks like one my mother has – and I can’t believe I just brought my mother up now.”

Jemma laughed, even as she lowered back down to the blanket and pulled him with her. “It was Deke’s mother’s, actually.”

Fitz focused on her again. He smiled lightly as he traced his fingers over her cheek and jaw. She pursed her lips in a brief kiss as his fingers moved across them. 

“Do you have pictures of your parents in there?”

“No, I wish. Just a lock of Deke’s mother’s hair,” Jemma responded. “She wasn’t a second mother to me, not exactly, but she was a very close friend, especially after my parents died. She was the one who told me about you, actually.”

“About S.H.I.E.L.D.?”

“No. About you, and how you’d come later, and save us all. She didn’t say anything about you being so attractive, though.”

Fitz’s eyebrows rose, even as he leaned down to kiss her. They didn’t speak about their parents again, but they did lose several pieces of clothing and Jemma finally learned what it felt like to touch him skin to skin. The next time they spoke was after he pulled away and reached out for the bag once more. He came back with a small square packet.

“What’s that?” Jemma asked, breathless and wanting, her head tilting to one side so she could see him easier. Her fingers dropped to where he had been pressing against her before he so rudely took away his warmth and weight. 

He watched her touch herself, intensely focused on the way her fingers slipped between the wet folds of skin and fondled the nub she had discovered was so extremely sensitive. He flushed even redder, then met her eyes again.

“It’s a condom,” he explained – or tried to.

“What’s that?” Jemma repeated, brows furrowing.

“It – ” He broke off briefly, concentrating instead on opening the packet. “It prevents against pregnancy and other things.”

“Oh.” Jemma propped herself on her elbows to watch hungrily as he rolled it over his very hard erection. “We didn’t have things like that. The Kree put something in the food.”

“Yeah, I know,” Fitz said, “but we don’t know how long that lasts.”

“I understand. So…you packed that bag pretty, ah, optimistically, then.”

Fitz waggled his eyebrows at her. “Yes, I did.”

With a sharp exhalation and a tackle that made Jemma laugh, Fitz was in her arms again, kissing her deeply and positioning himself and – oh. _Oh_. 

“Oh my,” she breathed out, scratching her nails down his back as he steadily pushed into her. 

There was pain, but also pleasure, and a sense of fullness as she stretched to accommodate him. His breath shook, and her body trembled, and together they experienced love and intimacy and desire and release, for the first real time, if surrounded by unreal beauty. 

Jemma’s head fell to the side, her body relaxing after its climax. Fitz buried his face in her neck. She felt his quick breaths and heard his satisfied groan. She ran one hand down his back, soothing where she had just been gripping and scratching as he thrust into her. She stared at her necklace glinting in the sun, and at the meadow beyond.

For a brief and surprising moment, she wished they could stay there forever. But she knew the meadow was temporary, even if she no longer feared it. 

She didn’t know that her bliss would be temporary too.

**

Jemma choked back sobs, pressing her hand against the glass pane that separated her from Fitz. She knew firsthand how damaging something like his Framework could be, but it had never hurt like this before. She shook her head as he tried to end things between them, as he tried to tell her that he was broken and dangerous and no good for her. That they had no future together now.

She didn’t blame him, like the others did. She understood what he had been attempting, and she agreed with it, even if it had been so horrendous for him to consider that his brain had attacked itself. But he wouldn’t let her in. He was stubborn and self-sacrificing, and perhaps too ashamed about what he had done to Daisy or even how he had programmed one of the robots to hold a gun to Jemma herself. 

But she didn’t care. They were in a strange, dark situation that called for strange, dark solutions. And she loved him. She wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. If only she could find the words to convince him. If only he’d listen to her if she could.

Fitz turned away from her, walking back to the bed. He sat, his back to her, waiting for her to leave, so she did. Stumbling down the hallway, blind from her tears, she reached up to touch the locket that had always calmed her. 

She remembered when Deke’s mother had given it to her, shortly before she died. She remembered how she had placed the clipping of hair inside. She remembered pointing to the small jewel on the front and commenting how it glittered in the dim light.

_“Even in the darkness of space, this shines, Jemma,” Deke’s mother responded. “Just like you. Look to it when you’re scared and hopeless and know that things will be better someday. You will be happy and safe and loved.”_

_“Why are you giving this to me?” Jemma asked._

_“Because I love you more than you will ever know. And when you need hope the most, I will be there through this locket and this hair, and you will understand everything.”_

The conversation had thoroughly confused young Jemma, but the memory sparked some strange suspicion inside her. She stopped dead in the hallway, pulling the chain from under her shirt. She opened the locket and stared at the hair inside. It was dark and long, like her own. She remembered Deke’s mother so vividly, even more than her own at times. Both Jemma and Deke had been among the last to be born the old-fashioned way, to parents who had grown up the children of the last survivors of the world before it had been destroyed. They passed those stories on, as well as the prophecies. Jemma could remember so clearly the many times Deke’s mother would talk of the man from the past, of the way she would smile knowingly, of the way her voice would sound as she spoke with traces of that strange accent Jemma wouldn’t hear again until she met Fitz. 

Jemma gasped as something seemed to slip into place in her brain. She stared at the hair again, then hurried to the lab.

One of the techs there, a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent who had arrived with Davis and Deathlok when Coulson was fighting his own fears, helped her. She hadn’t even known what to ask for, but watching the machines work through their analyses comforted her more than she could say.

That feeling of relief and security lasted for only a brief time, however. Soon enough, the computers displayed the results. 

Deke’s mother’s DNA matched to Fitz’s and to her own. She was related to both of them. She was – descended from both of them. As, Jemma quickly realized, was Deke.

Jemma certainly did not feel any sort of understanding or renewed hope. She did have a lot more questions, though. And she also…

She turned to the side, vomiting into the nearby waste bin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here I am, once again wishing there was a rating between M & E, because I feel like that's where this fic really belongs. Alas.


	5. Chapter 5

“Do you see what this means?” Jemma asked, beaming.

She knelt in front of Fitz, his hand resting in hers and the locket in his palm. He had jumped when he realized she was inside the cell with him, turning away as if he didn’t want to see her or her to see him. But Jemma persisted, sharing the news she had discovered. Once she had recovered from the shock, she had been filled with such happiness. And once she had talked with Elena, she realized it hinted at so much more.

“Yeah, I do,” Fitz said, grumbling. “It means that our daughter’s obviously gonna marry some belligerent space goon if she’s gonna give birth to a _Deke_.”

“No, Fitz,” Jemma disagreed, laughing. Her heart simply ached with joy that he accepted it so easily, that he referred to _their daughter_ as if she already existed. She didn’t yet, but she will. Jemma believed it. She _knew_ it. “It means you and I are invincible.” 

When he looked at her, she realized her statement had more than one meaning.

**

Jemma hesitated as she held the third beaker in front of her. She heard Fitz begging on the other side of the window. She heard Mack shouting at her to stop. Next to her, Elena just waited. Jemma squashed the traces of doubt and lifted the glass to her lips. She tipped her wrist, spilling the liquid into her mouth.

Water. It was water. 

But no one else knew that yet. Their plan was playing out perfectly. She assumed an ill, shocked expression.

“Fitz,” she whispered, lifting one hand to her throat.

She coughed, gagged, stumbled, letting Elena catch her and lower her to the ground as she moaned and cried. Next to her, she could hear Fitz shouting in horror, and she let his grief and her guilt fuel her performance. The sooner he was out, the sooner she could reveal she was fine. 

Within moments, it was done. Fitz was running down the hall toward the lab, and Elena whooshed away and back again, leaving Mack locked up. Now, it was Mack shouting to be released, as Jemma climbed to her feet. She looked to the corner as Fitz slowly returned. His expression was a mixture of confused relief, anger and pride. He was breathing heavily and held a hand to his chest.

“A heads-up would’ve been nice. You scar – ” He waved her closer, pulling her into a hug. “Compliments on the performance, Dame Judi Dench.”

Jemma didn’t even pretend to understand the reference; she simply hugged him tighter.

“It wasn’t all a lie, Fitz.” Jemma muttered, still a little in shock. She pulled out of the embrace and stepped away, picking up the remaining beaker and pouring it onto the table. She watched as it bubbled and corroded the surface. “I might’ve chosen that one. I didn’t. Because we are invincible.”

Fitz stared. “And crazy apparently.”

Jemma shrugged in agreement.

**

Jemma huddled behind the toppled table, her now-useless gun on the floor. She held Fitz’s hands, bowing her head in preparation. In her heart, she knew they’d either survive this somehow – or if they didn’t, it was because they changed the world and saved the lives and futures of all their friends and family. It’d be worth it, but she’d regret forever all the days she could have had with Fitz.

The doors burst open.

**

She wondered if his life was always like this, one crisis after another. She wondered if this would be the moment when everything would be fixed and she’d blink out of existence. She wondered if death by Remorath was as painful as she’d always heard it was.

They had to separate, she knew, even though she wanted to hold him close and make him vow never to leave her. But he had a job to do, and so did she.

He embraced her briefly, in much the same way he had earlier and that poor girl Ruby had tried so ineffectively to mimic. He kissed her, and he told her he loved her for the first time. She said the words back, elated she had the chance to learn what they really meant in a world far away from the Lighthouse. And then he was gone. 

The fighting outside the lab was getting louder, drowning out whatever the general man said behind her. She ignored him, holding her gun up to point at the danger outside.

**

Fitz held back, letting the others run out first, following Mack away from the danger. It was vital to get to safety. That alone could be the moment that changed everything. He hoped it was, even though a large part of him still knew that time was fixed and nothing they did mattered. Nonetheless, he couldn’t wait to celebrate even a small or temporary victory with Jemma and start their lives together. Only a few weeks or months ago, he would never have thought it possible, his damage from the Framework and Ophelia too extensive. Not to mention the geeky loner he had been before all that had never had much luck with women either. But now – now there was Jemma. He had met someone who understood him in a way no one else ever had. Who loved him. Who was going to have a child with him, someday. The promise of that made the inevitable apocalypse easier to bear, for him anyway.

He had just cleared the door when the building shook from an impact of some kind. He wondered if it was Quake or Talbot, and he spared just one brief moment of guilt for his attack on Daisy. It hadn’t been what he wanted but – 

Everything shook again, harder this time. Fitz threw an arm out for balance, only to move it up in a futile attempt to protect himself from the debris collapsing onto him. 

He lost time somewhere in all that, regaining consciousness when Mack cleared the concrete from around his head. He tried to joke, tried to stay calm, for Mack’s and May’s sakes. He couldn’t feel his legs, and he hoped he’d just broken them instead of his spine. His arms trembled, and he stared at the bruises and cuts on the back of his hand, trying to understand them. Mack spoke to him, but he had trouble following along. He was so tired, his head too heavy to hold up. His eyelids drooped closed, but he knew there was – he had to – he forced himself awake, facing Mack again.

He wanted to say something to him about Jemma. He wanted her to know – but all that came out, as the message got muddled between his brain and mouth just like it used to so often after the pod, before Mack had helped him figure out how to work around it – was something about his legs again.

Mack reassured him, calling him Turbo like he had before Fitz had ruined their friendship and became someone Mack hated. He wished there was a way to take it back, to –

**

Jemma tucked the blankets tighter around Coulson. She was still learning how to read the information on the screens, how best to apply her underdeveloped skills to the team’s needs. This was a start, just drawing on the kindness and compassion her parents and Deke’s mo – her daughter had instilled in her. Kasius had warped and twisted those traits, made them something to use and sell, but they were hers again now. This is how she wanted to use them, to comfort Coulson as he clung to his life, to aid the team and the other humans they saved that day. And from now on, Fitz would teach her everything he knew, and she’d help in the lab too. She found a place, a home, a family. While she missed Deke and the others, she was so happy the stone had brought her to this time. It was where she truly belonged.

Someone entered the room and Jemma looked up, hoping for Fitz but wondering if it was too soon to expect him back.

It was just Mack. Jemma watched him step closer, as she waited for news. It was long past the time Earth’s survivors had always marked as the end of their world, so she knew the team had been successful. Part of her was surprised she was still there. Fitz had warned her she might disappear if the timeline changed, but not to worry about it, as they wouldn’t be able to change the timeline anyway. She looked forward to teasing him for being wrong twice. 

She nodded, encouraging Mack to tell the story even though she was certain Fitz would brag about his role again later, when she saw him. She wondered where he was, and what was keeping him from seeking her out.

The expression on Mack’s face, though – it lacked the relief and joy she would have expected. Instead, he seemed…it was as if he couldn’t…why was he there and not Fitz?

Looking for comfort and stability, Jemma raised her hand in order to touch her necklace. 

It was gone.

**

Elena and Daisy found Jemma in the small bunk of the Zephyr that had been given to her. They told her it was Fitz’s, so that made it hers now. The others were convinced, absolutely convinced, there was a version of him still out there. Jemma didn’t know. She never understood the rules of her life, not when she was a child under the crushing heel of the Kree, not when she traveled through time, and not now when everything had changed and she was still there, alone in a world where she didn’t belong.

Not _alone_ , of course. The support of the others, the invitations to come with them, all of it reminded her she still had friends. But she didn’t have him. 

The other two women were apparently not going to allow her to wallow in self-pity, however. They hopped onto the bunk, one on either side of Jemma.

“We’ve made contact with Enoch,” Daisy said without preamble. Jemma wasn’t expecting to hear that news, not yet, and she didn’t know how to respond. Perhaps her frozen silence was enough of a response. 

No one spoke for a moment, and then somewhat surprisingly, Elena continued. “Mack was…changed after he came back from the Framework. He had lived a life without me. He had _chosen_ that life. But we figured our way through it and back together. We’re figuring things out now, too. When it’s the right person, you can make it through anything.”

“He knew you before all that, though,” Jemma reminded her. “He loved you already.”

“Oh God,” Daisy chimed in, shaking her head. “He’s going to love you like crazy.” She gave a small smile that the other two didn’t quite understand. “He’s different now, but I know that much.”

Jemma stared ahead, part of her wanting to share her friends’ convictions that she’d have a second chance. But she wanted _her_ Fitz, and he was never coming home. Would a pale imitation be enough? Would she even want it to be?

“What if I don’t love him?” she asked, voicing her fears.

They had no answers, and as Davis announced they were ready to join with Enoch’s ship, Jemma realized they had no time to come up with any.

**

Fitz couldn’t stop shivering, even with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. Enoch had woken him far too early, but only because the others were there. They had saved the world while he slept, which seemed about right.

Yo-Yo, Piper and Davis had filed through, offering him hugs and greetings with almost too-strained happy smiles. It wasn’t until Mack came through that he learned more. That Coulson and May had stayed on earth to live out the last of his days. That another Fitz _had_ made it to the future, _had_ rescued them and helped save the world. 

And Daisy had followed, sharing horror stories instead of heroic adventures. Explained how he had restrained her and carved into her. Explained how it had been the right choice in the end, because she had been able to fight against Talbot – or not _Talbot_ , but what was left of him – and stop the apocalypse. Explained that it had been at the expense of his life (the other him, that was). 

It was all too much, and Fitz was glad that Daisy was the last of the group. When she left him alone to wake up, warm up and get his bearings, Fitz sighed in relief, leaning back against the exam bed’s cushion. 

“Hello?”

Fitz sat up abruptly, facing the door at the unexpected voice.

The woman was beautiful but visibly nervous. She wrung her hands as she gave him an awkward smile. Fitz pushed himself to sit up straighter, feeling his own pulse start to race. Despite the implanted memories of _her_ , he still had no idea how to stay calm and cool when interacting with an attractive woman, apparently. 

“Hi.”

He was uncertain what else to say. He didn’t know her, and couldn’t guess what she could possibly want, or why she’d be so hesitant. Perhaps a new med tech, not quite confident in her ability to roll with the very strange punches S.H.I.E.L.D. could throw – like monitoring the vitals of someone just woken from a cryogenic freeze in outer space. 

“My name’s Jemma,” she blurted. “I’m from the future.”

Fitz blinked, shaking his head slowly as he re-assessed the situation. Someone from the future had come back in time and was still around. The timeline had changed, leaving one version of him…gone, and himself left to pick up the pieces and move forward with his – their? – life. Which meant that time wasn’t fixed. Maybe it meant that whatever Ophelia had done to him could be forgotten and left behind too, because he could make different choices than the other him had. And just maybe, his first choice of his new life would be to conquer his insecurities and just _talk_ to this woman as soon and as much and as often as he could.

“That’s incredible,” he forced out in reply. 

She smiled, exhaling sharply. She stepped farther into the room. “You – the other you – helped me a lot. So, I figured I’d return the favor and help you figure this out.”

Fitz grinned, nodding eagerly as he gestured at the chair.

**

They talked for hours, with Jemma only ending the conversation when she noticed that Fitz couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore. Piper informed her, once she left the room where machines softly beeped and whirred with the reassuring sounds of Fitz’s vital signs, that they were already a third of the way home.

She fought a yawn as she remembered the open and cheerful way he had responded to her tentative offers of friendship, to the enthusiastic way he had verbally thought through his new understanding of time travel and how thrilled he seemed that she wanted him to explain it but didn’t _need_ him to explain it either as she could follow along just fine. She remembered the hesitant way he flirted, so similar to the Fitz that she had first met yet so different from the one who had been her very first everything in a meadow far below the surface of the earth. 

He wasn’t _her_ Fitz, but she looked forward to getting to know him.

Jemma slid open the bunk door, spotting the bed immediately and wishing she was already in it. Closing the door behind her, she unzipped her pants, pushing them over her hips. Straightening again, she kicked them off even as she moved to her top. And then she froze, before laughing in giddy disbelief. 

There, alone on the shelf just above the bed, was her locket.


End file.
